IDFK How

I've been thinking a lot about the past.
I've seen things about myself that are hard to face. 
Like how selfish I truly was in the past. 
Thinking about my own happiness, what I wanted. 
Not thinking enough about others 
and how much they've suffered because of that. 
Trying to fill my emotional needs/wounds. 
But that wasn't healing my wounds, it was just trying to fill them. 
With stuff that wasn't working, that didn't work, that I didn't need. 

I needed to tend to the needs of others, not my own
and I needed to teach my son, to reach my son. 
To show him love. To help him feel loved. 
And wanted, needed. 
To help him heal his wounds, and I f*cked that up. 

Because I didn't feel loved, wanted, needed.

But it was not about how I felt, it was supposed to be about him. 
And if I had helped him feel good, he'd know how it felt to feel good. 
There were times I thought that I did help, a bit. 
There were good times we had, but he doesn't remember that. 
He remembers the sh*tty times, 
when I wasn't at my best, was at my worst with him
and he remembers how that felt. 

And he' p*ssed off that I did what I did. 
And I'm p*ssed off at myself for doing what I did
and that I even let it get to this point. 
He wanted me to care and show him. 
I cared, I just didn't know how to show him
in the ways he wanted me to show him.
Because of times others hadn't shown up for me, in my life.
And it seems like an excuse, but it's not. 

And I kept going away, and trying to date, and drinking, 
and trying to have a life, when he needed me there, 
but I couldn't see what that was doing to him. 
Making it seem like I didn't care about being with him. 

"When you constantly need something from someone, 
you can't love them."
And that was kind of what happened between his father and I.
I felt I needed things from him. 
Not material things, but emotional things
and he's been too closed off to see that. 
And always thought I was using emotions to make him feel bad.
Just wanted him to know why I felt the way I felt. 
And it was mostly feeling not good enough. 
Not secure within myself. 
Not attractive enough to him. 
Not wanted by him. 
To give me the attention and affection
that would help me feel that way. 
About myself. 

And I feel bad that I was chasing my own happiness. 
And not thinking enough about him
and what he needed and wanted from me. 

It makes me feel sickened and makes me feel like sh*t. 
That my child feels so low and bad about himself
because he hasn't had the attention he needed. 
Or proper role models or guidance. 
And he's so lost now. 

And I really hope he finds his way out of the darkness he's been in. 
And I feel like I f*cked up my chance to help steer him out of it. 
Love could have saved him if he felt loved by me. 
I think he did sometimes, but not enough. 

And he's been searching for his own happiness. 
And really struggling with his toxic beliefs. 

And all I can do is light a candle for him. 
Say prayers for him. Hope that he does heal. 
Hope he sees the light and the truth about me. 
And that I do see and do understand
and it took me too long to see it, but I see it. I get it. 
He and I aren't all that different. 

I've had issues with wanting control over situations, too. 
I've had issues with anger, too. 
Being angry that people in my life have been so blind. 
That they have been so selfish....

And I know how it feels to feel not good enough. 
No matter what I do. No matter how hard I try. 
Because I have so much to make up for
that I don't know how to make up for. 
And I f*cked up all my chances to try to make up for it. 
With my son's father, with my son. 

For being so f*cking blind for so long. 
And so f*cking selfish. 
And they've been blind and selfish, too. 
And they have a lot to see, too. 
That they just do not want to see.
Because all they can see are my mistakes, 
not their own mistakes. 

MY toxicity, but not their own. 

Yes, I had a big part in it. They did, too. Not just me. 
But my part was my part. 

They didn't feel good enough, either. 
Because of me. And I know they have bitterness towards me
because I can feel it. 
But I wasn't always horrendous. 
There were real moments of tenderness. 

And I have some compassion because I can see it
from their point of view. 
They have needs, too.
They are people with feelings, too. 
So am I. And my feelings aren't the only ones that matter. 
Not more than theirs. 

I was trying to fill emotional wounds with alcohol
and it made it seem like I didn't care about them. 
Enough to quit for them, to become a better person for them. 
I was still doing what I was doing, 
to try to feel better, but it wasn't working, 
because that wasn't actually what I needed to feel better. 

Because those feelings still kept coming up and still do. 

And it still feels like it doesn't matter what I do or say. 
Like I don't matter to people. 
Because they'll just leave me alone. 
But I know they are suffering, too. 
Because I've been suffering....
I did cause their suffering, 
but also others skewed their perceptions about me. 
And apparently it's easier to talk sh*t about someone, 
than to talk about what they actually like about someone. 

And I feel so much regret and remorse for being selfish. 
For choosing what I chose over being who and what I was supposed to be. 
And I feel like it's too late to even tell my son these things, 
that I really wish I could tell him. 

Because I had fears that he might do something. 
When he hadn't done anything, but the way he's been talking....
It's gotten so bad and it could be or get bad, 
but I feel like I made things worse 
and feel like everything I do makes things worse. 
And now his father isn't talking to me, either. 
And he went for long periods of time not talking to me
because of how I f*cked up so much in the past. 
And how he's not fully forgiving me for that. 
For the lessons I needed to learn
while we were together. 

For being too immature....
Even though he did his best, 
and I wanted passion and I wanted to be wanted. 
I wanted him to show me emotion. 
And to really get why I felt the way I felt, 
but he didn't know. He didn't seem to care
about understanding that. 
What I needed from him. 
But what I needed from him 
was actually what I needed from myself
and had I been mature enough to show up for him,
and show up for our son, maybe he would have shown up for me. 

It just seems like no matter how many times I've tried to make up for it, 
it just never seemed to be enough. 

And I don't seem to be able to come back from this. 
I really don't know how to come back from this. 
I don't know how to deal with how bad things got. 
But they got bad, in part, because of me. 
But it's not entirely up to me. 

I can work on what I need to work on, 
but only others can work on what they need to work on.
I can only help where I can and how I can. 

And that would have made me happier
than wasting my time drinking, 
than trying to date guys who weren't for me. 

I know what matters more, now. 
That should have mattered more, now. 
Than any of that.... Doing what I needed to do. 
Before it got as bad as it got. 

I can hope that it gets better. 
I don't know if it will. 
If my son will change his mind. 
If he'll be shown the light, or see it. 
Or come to realizations that he can heal
from all the past sh*t and leave it in the past.

That trauma does not define us
and we don't always need justice or revenge
for things that hurt us. 
That we can see pain as strength
and use it to give us power. 

But I know that pain hurts. 
I know that it hurts deeply, greatly
and can become consuming. 
I was consumed by my own pain and grief.
So consumed that I didn't see the pain and grief I was causing. 
And I know that this happens to other people, too. 
I couldn't figure out why my mother was being
the way she was being with me. 
Or in general. Like she had no heart. 
Like she couldn't or wasn't able to care or love. 
Because there are wounds there
where she felt like she was uncared for and unloved. 
Stemming back from when she was a kid
and she got jealous of anyone's love for anyone else
because she didn't have that. 

And a part of that was because she wasn't very giving. 
She was being very selfish. And inconsiderate. 
She can't see it in herself. 
Like I couldn't see it in myself. 
Like my son isn't seeing it in himself. 
Because he's been suffering for a long time
due to other people being selfish and inconsiderate towards him. 
And how he felt about that
and how he felt about himself. 

And it's been hard being a kid, and being a teenager
and he's just started his adulthood. 
And I wasn't there for a lot of it because I've been grieving. 
And suffering, emotionally. 

And that wasn't ever his fault, that I wasn't there. 
It says nothing about him. 
He gets to make choices about how and who he wants to be. 
And I think a big part of him wants to be happy
and we're taught that love will fill that big hole we have. 

That hole of unfilled emotional needs/wounds. 

That I caused. From being a f*cked up person. 
A broken person with a broken heart. 
Not being able to think straight or do the right things. 
Because I couldn't think straight enough
to know what the right things were. 

And I f*cked up so much. I have so many regrets. 
I get angry with myself that I f*cked up so much. 
That I couldn't control my impulses. 
That I did sh*t, impulsively, without thinking about it. 
The impulsivity is a BPD thing. 

The inability to control emotions.... That's a BPD thing. 
Relationship issues is a BPD thing. 

I was in a chat room where they were having a chat about love.
And I brought up that people who have BPD
have issues in relationships
and someone said that people who have BPD
have issues with relationships with themselves
let alone with other people. 
Which is so true. Lots of self-hate, 
but look for love from others. 

And yeah, there are times I still really do not like myself. 
Because of the things I did and how I was. 
I have a lot to forgive myself for. A lot. 
A lot that others probably won't forgive me for. 

I've had my ignorant times where I couldn't see
how ignorant I was being. 
Because I could not see the f*cking errors of my ways. 
Why I was being the way I was being. 
What my issues are and what issues my issues caused. 

Like I don't even really know who I am. 
People ask me about myself and I don't know what to tell them. 

I can talk about what I'm going through
or something else, but I have a hard time
expressing who I am as a person. 
Because I don't really have an identity. 

And it makes it hard for people to really get to know me. 
Because I don't really know myself. 

But there are things I don't like about myself. 
A lot of things and I have been stuck in a feeling of remorse.
Over things I can't change in the past. 
And try as I might to try to fix things, Idfk how.